


Can I call you Pie?

by squeakylids



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Ancient Greece, F/M, Historical References, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Oracles, Oral Sex, Smut, Team Free Will, What Was I Thinking?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-22 00:30:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13752429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squeakylids/pseuds/squeakylids
Summary: A couple thousand years ago, Delphi was the center of the world, and everyone sought the advice of the Oracle who resided there, from the highest of ancient Kings to the most warlike of Spartans.Now the treasures of ancient Greece are scattered around the world, residing in museums for all to see. Some of the artifacts though still resonate with ancient power, and some of them are still tied to their ancient guardians.But what happens when it looks like Dean might be the reincarnation of an ancient spartan warrior, who was the lover and guardian of the cursed Oracle?





	1. Theft

**Author's Note:**

> I am more than a little obsessed with ancient history, and have been watching way too many documentaries. The idea of this soul mate thing started percolating, and this is what's coming out... 
> 
> Translations for the greek are rough, and probably totally inaccurate, but then again I don't speak Doric Greek, and no one has since about 400 AD... so I don't feel bad. :P They will be at the bottom of each chapter.

The heels of my Louboutins clicked sharply against the white marble museum floor as I strode purposefully forward, huffing an annoyed breath through my aristocratic nose at the interruption to my now very tight schedule.

I had other things to deal with than talking to the twice damned FBI, like the break-in and theft that I had not seen coming.

Me. The thrice cursed  _PYTHIA_.

I was livid. This should NOT have been able to happen. Not to me. Especially because of what had been stolen.

"Agents, I don't know what on earth I will be able to tell you that my assistant has not already..." my snappish tone's echo faded in the cavernous marble hall as I stopped dead in my tracks, my mouth hanging open like a slack-jawed idiot when I saw him.

By _APOLLO_ , it couldn't be. Not after all this time... it was impossible... wasn't it?

But there he stood, yanking his hand away from the marble bust in front of him like a child with their hand trying to snatch a fig. He had been caressing the cheek of Artemis as if she had been his lover, almost leaning in to kiss her. The same green eyes, the same narrow nose, the same strong jaw...

It was Demeas, there was no mistaking it, down to the freckles.

It was _impossible_.

***

She had stormed in all fire and fury, her heels loud in her displeasure as they echoed off the greek marble. Her accented voice had been full of acid as she had started to tell me and Sammy off when she had stopped dead at the sight of me touching the marble bust in front of me, her mouth hanging open in what I assumed was outrage. I snatched my hand back like the thing had been hot, but it had been way too late, she'd totally seen me being way too hands-on with the inanimate object.

I braced myself for her to start screaming, only when I looked at her, screaming looked like the last thing she was about to do.

She looked like she was about to pass out.

"Woah, hey!" I darted forward quickly as she swayed on her tall spindly heels, wrapping my arms around her to keep her from tumbling to the floor.

Her fingers were surprisingly strong on my forearm as she clung to me, her body sagging.

"* _Eispnēlas, it cannot be_." I heard her whisper, but I didn't waste any time asking her what the hell it meant as I moved her towards a bench that was nearby. Besides, for some reason, her words made a strange warmth blossom in my chest.

"Here," Sam offered her a bottle of water that he had magicked out of somewhere as I crouched down in front of the woman who looked like she had seen a freaking ghost.  
  
Blinking rapidly, she seemed to shake herself out of whatever had happened as she accepted the water, taking a drink without saying a word. Her hands went to grip the edge of the of the bench she was sitting on as she closed her dark eyes and took deep, measured breaths for a moment, pursing a mouth made for sin as she blew them out.

I took that moment to rock back on my heels and look her over, because now that the danger had passed... _damn_.

She looked like one of the marble statues around me come to life. The kind of face that you swear you'd seen before but you'd know you'd remember if you had; some greek goddess in the flesh in the modern age, all dusky and Mediterranean. I usually didn't go for girls in designer skirt suits, mostly because they didn't go for guys like me, but there was nothing about her that wasn't perfect. It was fucking breathtaking. She was the kind of good-looking that would be remembered because you didn't come across a face like that every day, much less a body.

Hell, not every lifetime.

When she opened those dark eyes again and looked at me, I forgot why the hell I was there. It was almost like there was some weird pull to those dark depths that was drawing me in until I heard Sammy clear his throat behind me. Breaking the eye contact, I realized I'd been leaning into the woman just like I had that freaking statue, and it made me push to my feet in embarrassment. What the hell was wrong with me all the sudden?

"Are you ok Miss...?" Sam moved to take my place, and thankfully she turned those dark eyes away from me.

"Helios," she answered, her voice a little breathy still, revealing her to be native from somewhere European. " _Doctor_  Helios, yes, sorry. I don't know what came over me."

I scowled because she was lying. I don't know why I knew, but there was no doubt in my mind that she knew what had just happened. The way she had been looking at me had been anything other than confused. Horrified, maybe, but not confused.

***

"Are you sure, Doctor?" the man who looked like Demeas asked, his voice exactly how I remembered it echoing from ages long forgotten, piercing me with those olive eyes.

_Only it's not Demeas. That is NOT Demeas. This is a trick._

"Yes, sorry," I drew in a shaky breath, trying to finish collecting myself. I _refused_  to become a damsel in distress just because I had received a cruel shock.

_Such a cruel shock._

"As I was saying before I caught you groping an ancient artifact," the carefully cultivated disdain in my voice becoming stronger as I fell into the role I had fostered for myself in this life, "I doubt there is anything I can tell you about the break-in that my assistant has not already told you. Last night someone broke in, stole an ancient Greecian artifact, and left. Nothing else was reported stolen, and the artifact, while unique, is bronze and while priceless in some ways is not of any real material value. I do not know why this is of any interest to the FBI. Now if you will excuse me, I have work to do. Direct any further questions to my assistant."

Demeas, _n_ _o, NOT Demeas,_  was now standing before me again, another even taller man next to him, both peering down at me. The tall man looked concerned, but not the man who looked like Demeas. His eyes were narrowed, and he was piercing me with a look that I knew all too well. He knew I was lying. I knew the look on his face as if I had seen it yesterday.

_No. No, I didn't. The curse hasn't been lifted. That is NOT Demeas._ I berated myself, trying to maintain my facade as I pushed to my feet, moving to smooth out my skirt with shaking hands. I could feel my control slipping as my emotions began to overwhelm me.

"Good day, gentlemen," I said dismissively, looking down my nose at them with as much disdain as I could muster, not giving them a chance to speak. Turning on my heel I walked as quickly as I could out of the room without making it too obvious that I was running.

Whatever god was plaguing me was a bastard for this.  
  


*eispnēlas - one who inspires love, a lover


	2. revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are sometimes way more than they seem on the surface.

"I think she's hiding something, Sammy," I said as I scowled at the diner menu in front of me as if I wasn't just gonna order a bacon burger with extra onions.

When the Greek goddess come to life had fled, her bubbly blond assistant had come back in, blushing out an apology to us about her boss as she had tucked her hair behind her ear, making cow eyes at Sammy. The girl hadn't been able to tell us much more than we already knew about the case and had been even less revealing about the woman I couldn't get off my mind.

"Huh?" Sam didn't even bother looking up from where he was scrolling on his phone, cross-referencing something on the laptop that was open before him.

"The doctor," I said as I set my menu down kinda hard, rolling my eyes when he looked up at me in confusion, "That doctor Helios woman? I think she knows way more than she's letting on."

Sam frowned at me, confusion on his face. "What makes you think that? I mean, I know she wouldn't give us the time of day, but that's not the first time we've had to deal with someone like that."

"Dude, you didn't see the look on her face when she saw me, but you sure as hell saw how she reacted. She _knew_  something, and she was not fucking happy I was there." I don't know why, but the fact that she hadn't been happy to see me stung more than just my pride, and it had taken everything in me not to chase after her when she had bolted.

"Maybe she was just upset that you were touching a priceless ancient artifact?" He said pointedly, starting to go bitch face on me. "Or that there had been a break in targeting her department specifically? Or maybe she's just _l_ _ike_  that. She _was_  kinda a bitch."

"It was more than that Sam," I insisted, scowling at my brother's callous description of her. "I think we should check her out a little further."

"And this has nothing to do with the fact that under that standoffish exterior the woman is a ten?" His bitch face was firmly on as he looked at me.

"Pfft, no," I snorted, pushing back in my seat trying to look annoyed, "I don't go for pampered ice princesses, you know that. This is strictly professional. She's hiding something, I know it."

The doc had been right about the artifact that had been stolen being priceless, but not due to its history. The artifact that had been stolen was something that we had come across in the records of the men of letters bunker; the _actual_  incense bowl of the Oracle of Delphi, said to be able to grant the gift of true prophecy. The interesting thing that the file had reported was the fact that the incense bowl was almost always on display somewhere in the world in a museum, but that it was mysteriously moved each and every time they had ever had any intention of retrieving it. The file stated that they believed that the bronze bowl was under some kind of protection, but so long as it remained somewhere on display, it was safe from actually being used. It had been labeled 'to be monitored' and then left alone.

It was why we were now investigating, the headlines 'Break in at Museum, Delphic Oracle exhibit vandalized' having caught my attention. Sam had been kinda surprised that I had remembered such a random file, but I had just grinned and reminded him that I was more than just good looking. To be fair though, I had been kinda surprised that I had remembered it too, but there had been something about the headline that had grabbed my attention and refused to let it go.

"Sure it is," Sam's voice practically dripped with disbelief, but he closed his laptop to look at me, "so what do you want to do?"

"I say we head over to her place and keep watch, see if anything comes up," I kept my voice low due to the approach of the waitress, beaming a grin at her when she stopped by our table, cutting off any nay-saying on Sammy's part as I ordered my lunch.

***

The thing about being an oracle was that sometimes I could feel a vision coming on, and sometimes I couldn't. The easiest way to describe the sensation of an unsought prophecy is kind of akin to a sneeze. Sometimes I could feel them coming, and prepare myself. Sometimes I could even trigger them with the proper combination of intoxicants. Other times they came out of nowhere as a complete surprise and were usually just as dramatic.

So when I was standing barefoot in my kitchen, enjoying a glass of wine made from grapes that had been growing in the same region for thousands of years, I was more than a little unprepared for the prophetic visions that suddenly slammed into me. To get a flash through my mind vivid enough to send me into full eye roll mode, the echo of my native tongue echoing through my home as I spewed forth prophecy until I had no breath left in my lungs, was usually reserved for much ritual and preparation. The lack of preparation on my part had me writhing against the mosaic tile of my floor like a landed fish, completely helpless in the grip of my curse. My goblet shattered loudly, splashing the red of my wine like blood across the inlaid stonework, my mind transported to the far-flung reaches of the universe. For a moment I was one with everything, and with my voice, the secrets of the other world were revealed.

When I cracked my eyes open an indeterminate amount of time later, I found myself staring at the painted ceiling of my living room, stretched out on my couch.

Decidedly NOT where I had been when I had gone into my prophetic trance.

"You ok?"

My heart tripped in my chest as I turned my head to see the man who looked like Demeas sitting on my coffee table, those eyes that haunted my dreams scrutinizing me closely. I was too shocked to keep my face schooled, and something hardened in his expression at what he saw there. My mind raced, and I licked my lips, trying to get a handle on this situation despite how out of hand it was.

"What are you doing in my home?" I demanded instead of answering him, pushing myself into a seated position, glaring at the man wearing the visage of my long lost lover.

Glancing around I noticed that the other man that had been with him was leaning against the far wall of my living room next to a life-sized bronze statue of Achilles, arms folded across his broad chest and eyes narrow as he watched me. The glares were perturbing and I had lived long enough to know what their expressions meant; they knew or at least suspected... the real question was how much did they _know_.

"What was that, _doctor_?" The giant against the wall demanded in return.

I glanced between them, noting their shuttered expressions and watchful eyes and lied, "I have epilepsy."

"Really? Never heard of a seizure disorder causing people to yell out phrases in _ancient Greek_  before." the giant drawled, pushing away from the wall to stand behind the thing still sitting on my coffee table.

"You should come clean with us Doc," the golem of Demeas said.

I let out a bit of a hysterical laugh, finally snapping, feeling anger welling in me as I stared into the face of the man I had been cursed to exist without.

"As if you don't know. As if some trickster god has not sent you on this maddening mission to keep me from retrieving the burner. Well, I promise you this _Demeas,_ " I all but snarled the name I hadn't spoken aloud in over two thousand years, watching the man recoil as if I had struck him, "this will not go unpunished. I will not let you and your pathetic facade keep me from what is mine with meaningless _distraction_."

***

The doctor's pretty face was twisted in fury, and for a moment I was a little worried that she was actually going to attack me as her breath heaved out of her. I have never, in my life, seen a woman look so pissed.

Demeas? Who the hell was Demeas?

"Woah, lady, my name is Dean, this is my brother, Sam," I said, holding up my hands to both ward her off and show I surrendered. The woman straight up looked ready to murder us, "We're here because of the Oracle's incense burner, nothing else."

Her expression darkened further, her lip curling to reveal her gnashing teeth.

"Obviously," she hissed, "but you slither back to whichever god sent you here and remind them that without _me_  the burner is _useless_  and that I will _scratch their eyes out_  for this transgression." her eyes danced all over my face, and there was something in their furious depths that cut me to the bone, but not from fear. It almost looked like she was ready to cry. "How _dare_  they give you his face."

I glanced at Sam, who looked just as confused as I was, "We... weren't sent by anyone," I told her cautiously, a little surprised when I realized I was about to be completely honest with her, "We're Men of Letters... our organization... well... _we_ , I guess, deal with Supernatural stuff. We've been keeping tabs on the incense burner of the Oracle of Delphi because it's the real deal. We didn't think that it was possible for it to be stolen, so we came to investigate when it was."

She was staring at us with narrowed eyes, her face a mix of rage and disbelief, her hair curling wildly about her head from where she had been tearing at it from her kitchen floor when Sammy and I had burst in. For some reason, her wild hair suited her way more than the stuffy skirt suit she was still wearing.

"What did you mean, the incense burner is useless without you?" Sam asked. "What was that we just saw?"

Her dark gaze left me to snap up to him, and she narrowed her eyes further, her lips thinning. I could feel Sam staring right back at her, not giving an inch.

"You don't know who I am?" She finally asked, her words measured and careful and dripping with total disbelief. "You came here, with _him_ ," she all but spat the word as she glared hotly at me, and while she still looked furious her eyes held a hurt that looked to be as old as time, "and you don't know me?"

Swinging her legs over the edge of the expensive designer couch I had laid her on, she slowly stood up, looking almost regal despite her diminutive height. There was no trace of fear in her face as she stood before us, and in fact, she was looking at us as if we were the most disgusting bugs she had ever seen.

"I don't believe you." She snarled before turning on her heel and storming across her marble floor to the fancy gourmet kitchen she had initially collapsed in.

She snatched the open bottle of expensive wine that was sitting there along with a fresh glass, ignoring the mess from her first drink as she sloshed the red liquid into the goblet. Muttering to herself, I watched her drain the glass before pouring herself another, taking a few solid gulps before she turned back around to spear both me and Sammy with a glare that was fit for a gorgon. There was something tugging at the back of my mind at the expression on her face like I was having the weirdest deja vu ever.

"Lady, we don't care what you believe," I said as I slowly stood, aware that she was watching my every move like a freaking hawk. Never in my life have I ever felt more scrutinized, "but me and Sammy here just came to investigate the theft of the Oracle's incense burner. We have no idea who the hell _you_  are."

She rolled her eyes and laughed, but there was no humor in it. Instead, it made a little fissure of fear bolt up my spine, not that I would ever admit it.

" _Me_?" she snarled, draining the remainder of her glass before she actually flung the thing at us, letting it smash against the far wall, leaving a small red splotch from the trace of wine that had been in it. " _You_ , wearing the face of _Demeas_ , *aspis of Apollo, _dare_  to ask _ME_ , *adnos brykainai hiereiai acarnanian korygēs deilomai Apollo, who I _am_?!"

As she had been speaking her voice had quickly seemed to take on an otherworldly quality, the air around us growing heavy and charged to the point where the primal part of my brain began to watch for lightning. Every word cracked like thunder and it made fear, the kind rooted in superstition and the unknown, come to the forefront of my mind. Neither Sammy or I dared to move as we came to understand that this was not just some woman standing before us.

"I should send you back in _pieces_  to your master!"

The enraged words had no sooner left her mouth than her eyes rolled back in her head again. For a second I thought that she was about to call down the heavens to smite the shit out of us or something. Her mouth opened, and in a voice that evoked images of ancient temples and ancient gods, she began to spew forth the same Greek as before. But then we watched, stunned, as she collapsed hard on her floor and writhed, blind to everything as she babbled uncontrollably again. It was the same scenario that had caused us to kick down her front door in the first place.

"Holy shit Dean," Sam breathed, eyes wide as we hurried over to the woman as she seized on the floor, trying to make sure she didn't crack her head open on the marble of her floor as she spewed out archaic words that echoed unnaturally all around us, "I think she might actually _be_  the Oracle of Delphi."  
  
  
  


*aspis of Apollo - Shield of the god Apollo

*adnos brykainai hiereiai acarnanian korygēs deilomai Apollo - holy priestess of priestesses, ancient herald of the will of Apollo


	3. answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean learns some new things about himself.

I held her delicate wrists in my hands, my thumbs gently tracing over the ink on her fragile skin there, feeling her pulse still rabbiting beneath her skin. The tattoos there were so old they had faded to a soft blue from whatever color they had once been, but the letters were still perfectly clear, obviously having been placed there with care.

γνῶθι σεαυτόν

Once more we had her stretched out on her designer couch; a faint sheen of sweat on her golden skin as she breathed shallowly, her pulse thudding visibly in her throat, her dark hair messily haloed around her face. While she had been in her trance she had talked non-stop in that otherworldly voice, only drawing in great gasping breaths of air when she literally had no more in her to speak with. It had taken both me and Sammy to hold her down to keep her from hurting herself as she had torn at her own hair and clothing totally out of her mind in the grips of... whatever the hell it had been that had happened.

Now, her eyes were rolling wildly behind closed eyelids, but otherwise, she was completely still, almost dead looking. It had me perched on the edge of the seat so that I could touch her to soothe my own nerves rather than returning to my post on the coffee table. I had been holding her hands in my own before I had even realized it, my thumbs just naturally stroking her skin over the old tattooed words.

"What's that?" Sam asked me, looking pointedly at the ink I was touching obsessively as he moved to take up my old seat.

"Gnōthi seauton," I answered him absentmindedly, not wanting to take my eyes off her face, silently willing her to wake up and look at me.

" _What_?"

"It means 'know thyself'," I said, still watching her face, feeling something in me ease when her breathing started to ease up and her eyes stopping moving so wildly.

"Since when do you read or speak ancient Greek, Dean?" Sam's voice was quiet.

"What?" I jerked my eyes off her face to look up at him, confused.

"How do you know what that says?" His face was serious as he looked pointedly at the tattoos on her wrists and then up to me again.

How _did_  I know that's what her ink said? As I looked at the lettering again I knew logically I had no way of knowing what the fuck it was I was looking at. Latin was one thing, given the job, but Greek? Specifically _ancient_ Greek? At the same time, I just knew without a shadow of a doubt what the words were. It was almost as if I could see them in my mind's eye, etched in stone somewhere.

"I don't know man," I answered honestly, "I just do."

"Dean, what the hell is going on? Why does she think she knows you? Why the hell does it seem like you know _her_?" Sam demanded earnestly, every line in his body radiating with concern as he looked at us.

Before I could answer him, the doctor shifted as consciousness returned and I turned to watch her dark eyes flutter open. When they settled on my face for one brief shining moment she lit up, smiling beautifully, and it knocked the breath out of me. I felt like a blind man seeing his first sunrise when she beamed at me, the warmth of her smile reaching something in me that felt like it had been sleeping. Her face was open and full of joy until she blinked and seemed to come back to herself. The smile vanished, and the rapture that had been all over her features crumbled into a pain that looked aged and profound. It broke my heart to see her eyes fill up with tears.

I didn't know what to do when she sat up and pulled her wrists from my grip so that she could bury her face in her hands and cry.

***

"Here," came the gentle voice of the giant named Sam as I sniffled from behind my fingers.

I was finally getting myself under control after I had been sobbing brokenly into my hands for the past few minutes. I looked up to see him holding the remainder of the bottle of wine I had opened earlier before me. I took the green glass gratefully, drinking the wine straight out of the bottle. It was an amusing parody of our first meeting.

"Are you... better?" came the hesitant query from the golem seated next to me, a mere handbreadth between us.

I turned and speared the man wearing the face of my lover with a glare that had I been a medusa would have killed him. I knew I looked a fright, wet-eyed and wild with my hair a mess, and I was glad for it when he recoiled again. If I thought I could get away with it and thought he was actually at fault, I would have launched myself at him for his impudence.

Only, the more I observed these men, the more I believed that they were mere victims of someone else's plans. My emotions warred from wanting to throw myself into the familiar arms of the man next to me and wanting to scratch off the face that didn't belong to him. For one brief, shining moment when I had come out of my trance and seen his face, I had been transported back in time, to when I had been happy and in love. Then I had remembered the truth, and the false joy had fled.

Someone had done this to me to distract me, and they were going to pay for it.

"Well, that answers that," the giant muttered as he came to sit down on my coffee table before me, "are there any other questions you're willing to answer, Doctor?"

"Pythia," I snapped without thinking.

The men looked at each other in silence for a moment, before the giant spoke again as if confirming a suspicion, "You're saying you _are_  the Oracle of Delphi?"

"Pythia korygēs deilomai is the proper title," I said with narrowed eyes.

"And that means...?"

"She's the herald of the will of the gods," said the golem immediately. He blinked, looking surprised with himself, and then scowled, shoving to his feet as he muttered, "and how in the hell did I know _that_?"

I watched him pace agitatedly before my big picture windows for a moment, and the truth was suddenly glaringly obvious. It actually made the whole thing even worse.

"You really don't know, do you?" I finally asked in defeat. This was not the first time the gods had played a cruel trick on me, it just had never been this cruel before.

"Lady, I feel more confused by you than I did by my first freaking erection!" the golem named Dean who looked like Demeas snarled in agitation.

He realized what he said even as the giant snorted in amusement, and stopped to clamp a hand over his eyes, clenching his jaw in agitation. It was something so familiar I felt my own lips quirk in a smirk, even as it twisted the knife in my heart that much more.

"Whoever did this is going to pay," I swore.

"What do you mean?" The giant asked me, his voice still gentle, but it held a tone that stated that he was not going to let up until I had explained what was going on, "and what does all this have to do with my brother?"

The golem stopped pacing, stopping to stand next to the ancient arms and armor I had mounted on my wall to look at me. I had to close my eyes, swallowing the lump in my throat. It was hard to see the golem standing next to Demeas' war gear; gear that still showed the marks from the battle that had claimed his life.

Drawing a deep, shuddering breath, I looked back up at the giant, "Your _brother_  is the physical embodiment of a Spartan man named Demeas, who was obviously sent here to keep me from attempting to retrieve the incense burner," tears prickled my eyes again as I spoke, "and whoever sent him is going to suffer for it."


	4. Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More is revealed about the relationship between the oracle and her lover. She also gets kinda drunk.

"So what do you think?" Sam asked me quietly we stood in her huge luxurious living room.

It wasn't lost on me that her home was reminiscent of a Grecian villa and that we were surrounded by the kinds of antiques any museum would kill for; mostly Greek or Roman from what I could tell judging by all the marble. Every piece was pristine, one of the marble busts even still boasting paint that looked to be thousands of years old. It was kind of amazing how the small touches of paint changed the marble that would have still been beautiful bare into something that almost seemed alive.

They were all incredible artifacts, but I couldn't help but stare at the simple bronze armor that was surrounded by weapons of war dominating the wall, looking like it would fit me like a glove. It had seen a fearsome battle, and it was more than a little obvious that whoever had worn it hadn't survived the damage.

"I think this fucking sucks man," I barked angrily, running a hand through my hair so that I didn't reach out to touch the bronze shield hanging there.

The girl, Pythia, had excused herself a little while ago, not even giving us a reason why as she had fled down her hall. This whole thing had already spiraled way out of anything I had been prepared for. Coming in and playing FBI to learn about a stolen artifact was one thing, finding out that I looked like a dead spartan that obviously meant a lot to a freaking _Oracle_  was something else. Having sudden, weird obsessive thoughts about that same Oracle was not helping either. This felt like it was cosmically beyond my control, and I never handled that kind of shit well.

"Well, yeah," Sam agreed, "but what are we going to do now? I mean, this is more than just a stolen magical item. A lot more."

"Fuck if I know man, but I am totally off my game right now. This shit is way too weird for me, and this time I'm the one fuckin' stuck in it. Doesn't this shit usually happen to you?" I snapped.   
  
I turned away from the armor, only to have my eyes catch on a slab of marble mounted next to it, my eyes darting over the inscription carved there. The marbled words were clearly legible, but it looked as if the edges of the carved words were rounded as if worn down by something.

Για εσάς, οι κάτοικοι της ευρύτερης Σπάρτης,  
Είτε η μεγαλειώδης και ένδοξη πόλη σας πρέπει να χαθεί από τους περσικούς άνδρες,  
Ή αν όχι αυτό, τότε ο δεσμός του Λακεδαίμωνα πρέπει να θρηνήσει έναν νεκρό βασιλιά, από τη γραμμή του Ηρακλή.  
Η δύναμη των ταύρων ή των λιονταριών δεν θα τον συγκρατήσει με αντίθετη δύναμη. γιατί έχει τη δύναμη του Δία.  
Δηλώνω ότι δεν θα συγκρατηθεί μέχρι να ξεφορτωθεί εντελώς ένα από αυτά.

"Gia esás, oi kátoikoi tis evrýteris Spártis,  
Eíte i megaleiódis kai éndoxi póli sas prépei na chatheí apó tous persikoús ándres,  
Í an óchi aftó, tóte o desmós tou Lakedaímona prépei na thrinísei énan nekró vasiliá, apó ti grammí tou Iraklí.  
I dýnami ton távron í ton liontarión den tha ton synkratísei me antítheti dýnami. giatí échei ti dýnami tou Día.  
Dilóno óti den tha synkratitheí méchri na xefortotheí entelós éna apó aftá."

I looked up to see her standing at the end of her hallway, looking wistfully at us for a moment before daintily stepping down the steps of her sunken living room to glide across the gleaming floor. She was wearing a flowing floor length dress that made her look like a goddess, her dark hair loose and tumbling around her shoulders all the way to her waist, her feet still bare. She was so beautiful she made my palms sweat, and I had to fight to keep from fidgeting in her presence. Gracefully she came to stand next to me, unhappily gazing at the marble as she traced her fingers over the words. In that instant, I knew why the marble edges had been softened.

"For you, inhabitants of wide-wayed Sparta,  
Either your great and glorious city must be wasted by Persian men,  
Or if not that, then the bound of Lacedaemon must mourn a dead king, from Heracles' line.  
The might of bulls or lions will not restrain him with opposing strength; for he has the might of Zeus.  
I declare that he will not be restrained until he utterly tears apart one of these."

She spoke the translation reverently before turning to look at me, her expression resolved but her eyes sad.

"That was the prophecy that killed Demeas," her voice was quiet, every word carrying the weight of ages of grief that I would have given my left nut to alleviate, "he was killed by the Persians with King Leonidas, defending Greece, in the late summer of 480 B.C. I keep this inscription to remind myself of it."

"Of his death?" Sam asked her gently.

She snatched her hand away from the marble as if it had suddenly burned her, her voice dark when she spoke as she frowned, shaking her head. "No, that is something I have no trouble remembering. This is to remind myself that Apollo is a bastard."

She turned and looked at me again, and the scowl faded. The look on her face hit me like a punch in the gut, and I knew why there were ancient ballads written about sad-eyed maidens. It was so easy to imagine taking her face in my hands and kissing that expression away as if I had done it countless times before that I swore I knew what she _tasted like_. I jerked my hand away just before I touched her, mentally slapping myself even as she just stood there, watching me. My fingers were itching to feel her skin, and I had to clench my fists.

"Sam!" I snapped instead of giving in to that part of myself, still unable to pull my eyes away from hers, "what have we got on that burner?"

***

"What I would like to know is who in the entire underworld knew how to mold you so perfectly into that body," my voice was slightly slurred from where I was sprawled in one of my overstuffed chairs with another glass of wine in hand as I motioned to Dean. "and _how_. You shouldn't be able to _exist_ in that form."

I had imbibed at least a bottle and a half since getting home, probably a little more considering the giant, Sam, kept topping me off. I needed the intoxicating effects the fermented grapes offered though, as I had explained. Especially if I was going to be hit with another prophetic vision again, considering I didn't have any of my regular intoxicants available for the task.

The more sedated I was, the less chance I had to hurt myself when the trance set upon me again.

The golem and the giant were both sitting on my couch, outerwear discarded as they scowled at the laptop screen before them. Apparently, they had been sincere in their intent to retrieve my burner. At my words though, they both looked up.

"What do you mean?" the giant asked, both men scowling up at me over the open screen.

"I mean that it should be _impossible_ ," I accused, drunkenly sulking, "and it's not _fair_."

The golem's eyes got quiet, and he reached up and closed the laptop, "I've been meaning to ask you about that," his voice was solemn and severe and so achingly familiar it hurt, "you up for a little explanation?"

I heaved out a weary sigh and swung myself into a more upright position, "because Apollo cursed me to live without you until Armageddon, and I don't exactly see the end of the world looming on the horizon right now." I paused, realizing my mistake and corrected, "live without _Demeas_. You're not Demeas."

Gesturing wildly with my glass as I spoke, I made a face when some of the wine sloshed over the rim and splashed onto my hand. As I set the glass clumsily on the table I almost missed the look that passed between the men.

"What do you mean?" The giant's voice was very carefully neutral.

I rolled my eyes and pushed to my feet, swaying as the room spun slightly from the alcohol. I couldn't bring myself to care about the wine red handprint I left on my white upholstery when I steadied myself. They both watched me closely as I tottered over to the armor on my wall unsteadily. I clearly heard a sharp intake of breath as I splayed my hands over the damaged bronze chest piece, gazing up at the helmet that had once framed the face that haunted my dreams.

"I was cursed to walk this world, blind and alone but still tied to my fate, until the end of time because I dared love a mortal man," my bitter voice went soft, almost reverent, as I remembered, "I was the Pythia for ages before I met Demeas. The moment I saw him I knew. Apollo was so enraged when he found out he made sure my love would be killed and cursed me for eternity. For giving him my purity I was still the voice, only I became blind in my trance, unable to remember my prophecy. The last prophecy I can remember is the one that doomed Demeas and his fellow Spartans. My curse is such that only when Armageddon comes to be will I reunite with him and finally be released from this endless life." Pulling my hands away from the breastplate of my lover, still scarred with where he had been pierced by a spear, I turned back to them. They were both looking at me in the same manner. It was the same look I had seen on the kings of old when I had told them something revealing.

There were tears in my eyes again, "Apollo was a petty, jealous, vindictive, _bastard_  and he wanted me to suffer. That's why this isn't fair. No one deserves to live in torment because they dared to love; but the world still spins, and thus you _cannot_  be Demeas."

No sooner had the words left my mouth than I felt the prickle moving up the base of my skull that signified that I was about to go into trance. It was coming on too suddenly to control and I staggered, flailing to brace myself. Suddenly the golem there, wrapping his strong arms around me as we sunk to the floor.

The last thing I heard before my mind flew through the ether was his voice in my ear, repeating, "It's ok, I gotcha. I gotcha."


	5. mágissa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean isn't sure he's liking how all the pieces are adding up.

"Dude."

The one word said everything.

"I know," I replied through clenched teeth.

" _Dude_."

"What the hell do you want me to say, Sam?!" I snapped, glaring at him.

Sam narrowed his eyes, but closed his mouth with an audible click, knowing there wasn't really anything to say. This had spiraled way beyond what we had been prepared to deal with in any way. Logically I knew that we had a job to do and that once done I would move on like I always did. It was how my life worked, no matter what I wanted.

However, as the girl lay in my arms, tranquil and breathing shallowly with her head resting on my shoulder, my mind raced.

_My curse is such that only when Armageddon comes to be will I reunite with him and finally be released from this endless life,_ she'd said, _but the world still spins, and thus you cannot be Demeas._

Except... what if I was? I mean, Sam and I did kinda almost end the world and all, only... we'd also stopped it. BUT there had been a period of time though where the world had very much been in its death knells so... did that count for... this?

It sure shit would explain what the hell was going on if it did.

Right before she had collapsed there had been something in the change of her expression that had me moving as she has staggered. I had been able to grab her before she hit the ground, her body naturally sagging against mine as I'd wrapped my arms around her. Her back to my chest, I had sunken down to the floor with her as she convulsed, again spewing forth the Greek that echoed way too familiarly in my ears. She kept repeating something about 'mágissa' over and over, the word tickling the back of my mind with its familiarity.

Holding her hands to keep her from tearing at herself, I found myself still holding them even when she was done, rubbing my thumbs over the ink on her inner wrists almost compulsively again.

"Jesus dude, just look at you," The look on Sam's face a mix of dismay and wonder as he watched me hold her, "do... do you think it's true?"

I scoffed at him, but even I could hear that I was trying to convince myself more than him when I spoke, "What the hell do you take me for? A believer in fairy tales?"

"You're currently holding an apparently immortal Oracle cursed by a god," he pointed out.

"That's different, we've dealt with that kind of shit before," I growled, and then scoffed, "but reincarnation? Soulmates? Get real man."

Sam got kinda pensive for a moment, and then spoke very carefully, "No one's said anything about soulmates, Dean."

_**SHIT**_.

"You know what I mean," I said quickly, trying to cover up that little fuck up, "Me? Being the embodiment of her lover, some random Spartan guy who died like twenty-five hundred years ago? Do you have any idea how nuts you sound?"

"About as nuts as a guy claiming he just met the _Oracle of Delphi_  in the flesh," Sam said pulling a bitch face at me for my obvious obstinacy.

"Just look over the damned security feeds some more, see if you notice anything," I snapped the order in obvious agitation, ending the discussion.

Sam gave me a look, but opened the laptop back up and got to work, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Thunking my head back into the wall, I sighed. I didn't like the idea of not being in control of my own destiny, of being railroaded down a path without my say so. At the same time, I knew that sometimes things were just destined to happen, and it was your reaction to those moments that made all the difference between fate and free will.

Still, I couldn't deny the draw I felt to her, and I snorted in self-deprecating amusement when I realized how ironic the words I was obsessed with were.

'know thyself'. Yeah, right.

***

The last time I had been in this position, the words had been a bright vibrant purple, not yet faded to pale grey-blue. The dye had been an offering to the temple, a tribute for my prophecy, and more valuable than gold at the time. I could still remember the sting as he had pushed the thin golden needle into my skin to press in the color, peppering my shoulders and neck with kisses and whispering words of encouragement through the pain.

"Demeas gave me those."

Behind me, the big body tensed, the thumbs that had been gently rubbing the skin over my tattoos going dead still. It was a familiar position. Sitting like this on the floor with his body pressed behind me, his large rough hands holding my wrists as delicately as one would hold a butterfly, his thumbs rhythmically stroking my skin it would have been easy to close my eyes and pretend. Too easy. I swallowed harshly and pulled my hands free, putting them on his thighs to push myself up before turning and offering to help him up as well.

The golem took my hand but didn't use it to haul himself up. Instead, he simply held it and my gaze as he rose under his own power. His eyes were searching my face as we stood there for a moment as if he was trying to read my thoughts, as tall as I remembered. My breath caught in my chest as he slowly reached up a hand to brush my hair out of my face almost reverently, the tips of his fingers barely grazing my cheek.

He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, but snapped it shut after a moment, swallowing. When he opened it again all he said was, "What does mágissa mean?"

"Mágissa?" I blinked, breaking the moment as I stepped back with a bit of a frown, "It means sorceress or witch. Why?"

"You kept on repeating it while you were in trance," he explained, his thumb stroking the hand he had yet to release.

"I think I know why." The giant spoke up from the couch making a face that clearly said that he had seen something on the security footage. It morphed into an expression of pure annoyance when he turned the screen to show the golem the main entrance security feed, revealing a crowd of people. The golem was still for a moment as his eyes scanned the looping video feed.

"Son of a bitch!" he shouted out of nowhere, startling me.

Dropping my hand and whipping out his cell phone, he stomped off to start pacing before my picture windows again. I looked at them confused and then moved towards the giant's laptop and the security footage I had given them access to. I didn't see anything out of the ordinary, simply a room full of people, like any other day at the Museum.

"Hey Crowley," the golem's voice was agitated as whoever he was calling answered, "You talk to your mom recently?"


	6. Awaken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The oracle probably shouldn't mix too much wine and magic...

"If you find her before me you _call me_ ," I snarled into the phone, "I _mean it_  Crowley, or so help me I'll rip your goddamned guts out."

"Touchy touchy Squirrel," tisked the far too amused response, "I'll try and get ahold of darling mummy so you can chat about her recent acquisition, then I'll call you back. 'Ta."

The phone went dead in my hands and I kinda wanted to throw it in frustration. I was pretty sure that Crowley knew exactly where Rowena was, but I didn't really expect him to give her up easily. There was no doubt when he called me back it was going to be to give me the runaround because the asshole just _liked_  to fuck with me for no reason sometimes. It had been plain in the amusement in his voice. Damnit. Tracking her was going to be a pain in the ass too. The woman could be damned elusive when she wanted to be.

"Well, he was no help," I groused loud enough to carry as I shoved my phone back in my pocket.

I turned back around to see the Pythia standing pensively behind the couch behind Sam, watching me. She tilted her head to the side slightly, but it was enough of a shift to cause her dark hair to tumble over her shoulder like a waterfall of rich earth colored silk, and I lost my train of thought as my hands itched to bury themselves in it. There was a flush on her cheeks from the wine she had been drinking, but in the back of my mind, I knew that she had the same kind of flush during... other activities.

"Maybe try Cas? If nothing else he might be able to help with the trances or whatever they are," Sam offered with a lame shrug, bringing me back to the here and now like a bucket of water being dumped on my head.

"It's not a matter of there being an issue with _me_ ," her speech had lost some of its initial polish making her accent more pronounced, and there was an annoyed huff to her still slightly slurred voice that was... actually freaking adorable, "the issue is that someone is actually _trying to use_  the incense burner."

"Come again?" Sam twisted to look at her.

Her lower lip wobbled out into a slightly drunken pout, and she sighed again, "The... woman?" she paused, frowning at herself before being more assertive, "yes, that _mágissa_  woman. She is obviously trying to use it."

Sam looked at her a little confused, but it was like a lightbulb went off for me.

"You're a package deal, aren't you?" I asked her, a glimmer of memory from a life I didn't want to think about having lived flashing through my mind. It was like I could clearly see her in my mind's eye, sitting on her three-legged stool, holding the smoking bronze bowl in her hands in a trance.

She gave me a tipsy smile and a shrug, before pointedly tapping herself on the nose, drunkenly missing it the first time.

"So, everything that's been happening..." Sam's words were carefully measured.

"Is because someone is trying to use my incense bowl for prophetic visions," the Pythia's nodding caused her to go off balance a bit, and she put her hand on the back of the couch to steady herself. "and it's working, they are most likely getting the answers they seek. The only issue is that _they_  are not the Pythia korygēs deilomai Apollo, _I_  am."

"So every time Rowena tries to use the incense burner..."

"Is that the name of the mágissa?" She gave a little hiccup, "it works, yes." The Pythia clarified with a slightly overexaggerated nod.

"And you go into trance," I knew the truth of the words even as they left my lips.

"Answering every question she is asking, yes." She shrugged again before she gave me a bit of a sad smile, her eyes holding the weight of the ages even as she gave another little hiccup, "I have never stopped being what I am."

***

The giant's voice caused me to look away from the heartbroken face of the golem who looked like my lost lover when he spoke.

"But... you don't remember your prophecies?" Sam asked me with a look that reminded me of a puppy, all worried earnest genuine curiosity. It kind of made me want to reach out and pet him.

I shook my head instead, the motion causing me to stagger. The alcohol was starting to hit me even harder, making the world seem like it was gently rocking like a ship on a calm sea, but it was enough to put me off balance. Reflexively I raised my hand to my head as the dizziness set in. Only, it didn't get better and instead it became more intense and I could hear the echo of a woman's accented voice in my ear.

"Are you ok?" The giant's voice seemed like it was far away.

"She's..." choking bile rose in my throat, and suddenly her voice filled my ears and my eyes went blind to the scenery around me.

_attasi, attasi. Show me the key._

_attasi, attasi. Reveal your secrets._

_attasi, attasi, I command you, attasi adnos deilomai theoí._

_attasi and reveal your secrets to me!_

Time had no meaning anymore. All at once I was at both the beginning and the end of existence, and I anything I wanted to know I just had to reach out and grasp. I felt like I was floating, completely weightless and adrift in the ether of the cosmos. Vertigo assaulted me and I fought not to flail against the swirling confusion as everything began to move in a torrent around me, the galaxy of stars beginning to blur into a bright white haze that soon engulfed me. It took me a moment, but then I was _remembering_  that _this_  was what it felt like before. _This_  was the wellspring of power that I was attuned to, the magic that wove the very fabric of the universe together.

With a blink, a shimmering oval surface like water suddenly came into view out of the swirling ether around me. Reaching out to touch the facade with my fingertips it rippled and then came into sharp, clear focus like the surface of a mirror. It was then that I found myself staring into the startled angular face of a red-headed woman.

" _Tre!_ " I gasped even though I couldn't hear my voice make any sound, grasping the edges of the mirror to steady myself.

"By the Gods!" she exclaimed as she startled, "But... but you're the curator!"

" _Return it to me Mágissa_ ," I demanded immediately even though I still couldn't hear my voice, my pulse thundering in my ears as I lay eyes on my burner, the inside of it still blackened with burned incense from where she had attempted to use it, " _you have no idea what you are messing with_."

She ignored me, "It cannot _be_. _You_  are the Oracle?! How?!"

My pulse was roaring harder in my ears, and my vision was beginning to spot and go dark around the edges as I slammed my hand against the mirror's surface. She continued to stare at me in wonder as panic started to grip me, but I couldn't take my eyes off of the object that defined my very existence.

" _Return it to me Mágissa!_ " I screamed soundlessly, slamming my hand into the cold glass again, desperation choking me even as the darkness overtook my vision.

***

I beat Sammy over the back of the couch by a heartbeat, catching her as she dropped like a stone once more... only this time, things were very different. Something was terribly wrong.

"She's not breathing Sam," I didn't even recognize my voice as a ball of lead was suddenly in my gut as I lowered her to the floor.

She was pale as the marble around us, the blue cast to her lips and her eyes half open and sightless making her look like a corpse. Her body was completely limp as if some huge hand had just cut the strings of life from her as she lay in my arms slumped like a rag doll. Even as I cradled her slight form in my arms her body felt like it was going frigidly cold.

I looked up at my little brother in a dead panic, my mind completely blank on how to react, "Jesus, she's not fucking breathing Sammy!"

Grabbing her, Sam shoved me out of the way so that I fell back on my ass, watching the scene helplessly. He lowered her to the floor, his hand flying to her throat to check for a pulse. It felt like a lifetime before he moved to plug her nose and seal his mouth over hers, immediately pushing a breath of air into her lungs.

"Dean! You need to do compressions!" He ordered, snapping me out of my shell-shocked panic just as suddenly as her collapse had plunged me into it.

Pushing the heel of my hand into her breastbone I began to will her heart to beat in time with my motions, my eyes were glued on the unnaturally cold skin of her neck, willing her pulse to jump out at me. Sam didn't falter, giving her regular, measured breaths as I kept up the unbroken rhythm, silently thanking him for getting me into the habit of keeping current on my CPR.

It felt like a small eternity, but was most likely only a few minutes, before Sam pulled back and put his fingers to her throat again as I stilled my motions, "Well?"

The look on his face was answer enough.

"Switch," I demanded, shifting so I was kneeling by her head.

He didn't try and argue with me as he started working, his movements sure and determined as we worked on keeping her alive.

"Please breathe," I begged as I sealed my mouth over hers and pushed a lungful of air into her.

When I pulled back her eyelids fluttered.

"Sam!" my fist wrapped in his shirt to stop his motions as my eyes were glued to her face, hoping against hope.

Sam's hand tore to her throat again as her lips twitched and she wheezed out the weakest of breaths. The smile of pure relief on his face caused some of the terror to drain from me as I sat back on my heels. Color returned as I watched, her mouth and eyes suddenly flying open as she sucked in a deep breath before coughing violently. When she jolted upright I wrapped my arms around her shoulders to support her as she clung to me, sucking in great big gulps of air as if she had been drowning, her whole body trembling as she coughed between gasps. Her skin was still freezing under my hands. 

"I saw her," she choked out, cold sweat making a few strands of her loose hair cling to her cheeks, "and she saw me."

Before I could ask what she meant her features twisted in a grimace. Without further preamble the girl puked up all the wine she had been drinking in a great red mess, all over the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mágissa - sorceress or witch  
> Pythia korygēs deilomai Apollo - Pythia, messenger of the will of Apollo.  
> attasi - Awaken  
> attasi adnos deilomai theoí - awaken holy will of the gods  
> tre - you in the accusatory sense.


	7. Bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has some disconcerting dreams, and then walks in on the Pythia in the bath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... smut happens. lol.
> 
> syssitia - a dining hall mens club that spartan warriors had to be elected into. Basically imagine a frat, but without the modern toxic masculinity. 
> 
> phalanx - trained spartan military unit.
> 
> eispnēlas - one who inspires love, a lover

_My captain stopped me at the foot of the staircase, the hot summer sun beating down on us as he adjusted the clasp on the new soft fine red woolen cloak draped over my shoulders. Then, frowning he glanced over my styled hair, making sure nothing was out of place before looking to the finely crafted bronze breastplate I wore, grabbing it and yanking to make sure it was properly fitted. I stood still, staring straight ahead as he scowled, fussing over every detail of my appearance, pretending the sweat beading my brow was from the blazing Grecian sun and not from nerves. A Spartan warrior was a thing of distinction, not some simpering child scared of the divine._

_Still... it wasn't every day one of us was picked to be the shield of the high priestess of Apollo; the sacred Oracle of Delphi._

_I swallowed at the thought._

_"You are to remain near the Pythia at **all**  times, is that clear?" He said gruffly, eyes clearly stating that he was disapproving of my clean-shaven jaw. I didn't want to tell him that my beard had refused to shape correctly, and made me look unkempt. Better to be shaven as a boy than the laughing stock of the syssitia. "You are her shadow. You alone were deemed worthy out of all to be the Oracle's shield. Do not fail her."_

_With those words, my captain clasped my shoulders looking me hard in the eye for a moment before his cragged old face broke into a grin, "You are a fine Spartan Demeas. You will do your phalanx, and your people, proud. The Pythia could not have a better guardian."_

_At that, he grabbed the back of my neck and pressed his forehead to mine, and with a wolfish grin gave my neck a friendly squeeze before he pulled away. I turned and watched the old man retreat away from the temple steps, turning to give me a final salute, which I returned in kind. Then, he was gone, leaving me alone at the steps that lead to my future._

_I swallowed my nerves again and tightened my grip on my spear, tucking my red crested helm more securely beneath my arm. My shield, presented to me with pride by my mother, resting as a familiar weight on my back. I turned and looked at the imposing structure of the temple of Apollo and forced myself to take unfaltering steps forward, not allowing myself to hesitate as I crossed the threshold into the pantheon. I couldn't help noting the words inscribed and lined with gold in the marble above me._

_'Know Thyself'_

_As I strowed purposefully forward an aged man in official looking attire stepped forth and attempted to look down his nose at me._

_"What are you here for, Spartan?" The way he was speaking to me made me want to punch him because it was not the first time an Athenian thought they could speak down to one of us._

_"I seek the Pythia, Athenian," I towered over him, glaring. "her shield has arrived."_

_"Oh? You are my shield, are you?"_

_The silvery voice was melodic as a birdsong, and even as I turned I felt my heart start pounding in my breast. There stood the Oracle, illuminated by the glow of the braziers that brightened the interior of the temple. She was the loveliest thing I had ever seen, regal in an elegant gossamer purple dress that complimented her dusky skin, with gold glittering in her rich dark hair and on her delicate wrists, her large dark eyes lined with kohl. The men and women of Sparta were considered beautiful by all standards, but she was something I had never seen before. I couldn't help it as I gaped at her like the fool Actaeon at the divine pool, and in that instant I was lost._

_It was as if Artemis herself was standing before me, perfect and untouchable and in that instant, my heart, my breath, my very **life**  belonged to her._

I awoke with a gasp, my heart pounding in my chest, the smell of incense still in my nose, the image of her burned in my mind like a brand.

Son of a _bitch_.

Sitting up I rubbed my hand over my face and through my hair, my bare feet resting on the floor as I turned and looked out the huge glass wall of her living room at the view of the shadowy hills in the distance. The sky was brightening with the dawn, the heavy mist that had settled over the valley she had a commanding view of glowing a soft white as the sky lightened. Somewhere down below us, I knew Sam was probably on his morning run, having left after I put the Pythia to bed to get a motel room.

It hadn't surprised him that I had opted to stay, hell, he hadn't even asked me about it. After she had been done being sick I had scooped her off the floor and carried her back to her bedroom, where I had been reluctant to even put her down. She hadn't uttered a noise of complaint at my treatment either, instead, all she had done was sigh and relax against me, making that knot in my chest tighten even more. I had sat on the edge of her huge bed after I had laid her on it and quietly stroked her hair until her exhausted eyes had drifted closed in true sleep, not saying a word the entire time.

When I had gone back out into the living room to look for my brother I discovered him studying the artifacts she had on display, the mess from earlier cleaned up. When he saw me emerge all he asked me to do was call him in the morning when I had a plan, and with that, he grabbed the keys to Baby and left me, all alone. Alone with my thoughts, and alone with the girl who I couldn't even imagine walking away from anymore.

I moved down the hall towards the master bedroom where I had left her, the need to see her and reassure myself that she was ok overriding almost anything else. A moment of panic lanced through me when I pushed open her door to find her bed empty, but I realized that she had gone through a doorway where a flickering light was emanating from, and I could hear the sound of water splashing. I paused at the open doorway, swallowing when I realized that the dress she had been wearing was in a crumpled heap on the floor.

With a deep breath, I stepped to the threshold, where I was greeted with a view that made me forget every spoken word I had ever learned except one.

"Wow."

She was standing in a huge sunken tub, totally the kind of thing you'd imagine coming out of a palace, the lights under the rippling water the only light source in the room. Steam rose delicately off the surface as she trailed her fingers through the liquid that was deep enough to almost covered the entirety of her backside, just the top of the cleft of her cheeks exposed. The underwater lights exaggerating the dimpled divots there against her golden skin, making the flesh that was not being illuminated underwater look like it was cloaked in heated shadow as lines of light danced reflectively around the room. The longest tendrils of her dark hair drifted in the water, the rest of the curls made more pronounced by the steam. When she turned and looked at me she looked like something ethereal, her skin dewy and glowing in the mirrored light, and I felt just like I had in that dream as I looked into her dark shining eyes, plush mouth open in slight surprise.

I was so fucked.

***

The sound of his voice caused me to turn, and I found the golem standing in the shadowed doorway of my bath, his heated eyes glued on me as I stood in the middle of the pool. My heart tripped and my breath caught at the expression on his face because I _knew_  that look. I knew it as intimately as I knew every freckle on his nose. It made my pulse thunder in my veins, and I was transported back to the instant I had first laid eyes on Demeas, so long ago.

I didn't speak, I just raised a hand and held it out to him.

He wasted no time, his eyes only leaving mine when he pulled the thin cotton of his shirt over his head, his hands making quick work of the boxers he had apparently slept in. Gloriously nude, his uncut erect cock standing proud, he moved towards me with sure strides. Not taking his eyes off me, he waded into the pool until there was no more than a handbreadth between us again. His olive eyes were dark with passion as they danced over my face, but he didn't move to touch me. As I looked up at him, at the thoughts and feeling flickering across his features, I was aware of every aspect of him. From the way his chest expanded with every breath to the way his cock twitched against his muscular thigh, to the very smell of his skin, he _was_  my Demeas.

It shouldn't have been possible... but...

I brought my wet hands up to rest against the broad plains of his chest, aware of how the flickering light caught the droplets of water that fell on his skin. Tilting my face up to him as I allowed my mouth to go slack and my eyes to drift close.

He did not disappoint.

I felt his powerful arms encircle me, one of his warm rough hands gently smoothing up the skin of my back under my hair until he could bury it in my locks at the base of my skull. At the same moment, his other arm tightened around my waist and I was pulled against him, closing that final gap as his hot mouth descended on mine. With his huge hand cradling the back of my skull I became pliant in his arms as he kissed me. He used my gasp as I felt the heat of him press into my belly to invade my mouth with the velvet of his tongue, coaxing mine to dance with his as he plundered my lips and left me dizzy. He tasted exactly how I remembered.

"You are so beautiful," he breathed reverently after he broke the kiss, his passionate gaze soft as he looked over my features. When he brought his hand up to touch my cheekbone as if he didn't believe I was real I reached up and took his jaw into my hands, pulling him back down for another kiss.

"Please," I begged softly against his mouth.

My senses were overwhelmed when he moved, scooping me up and moving to the edge of the bath, setting me to rest on the rounded marble lip as he stood between my legs. Winding my arms around his neck I tried to pull him even closer, reveling in the feel of his heated flesh against my own. He groaned as I ground my core against his erection, making myself gasp when I realized that the lip of the tub was the perfect height for what was about to happen.

"Fuck, you're gonna be the death of me," he gasped, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against mine so that he could look down at where our sexes were grinding erotically together, rocking against me.

The motion was making me whimper as I clung to him, and he moved one hand down to my hip to move me back against him, biting down on his plush lower lip as he did so.

"Ngh, god, I could blow just doing this," he grunted, thrusting a few more times before he pulled his hips back. I could see how angry and red his arousal was, precome dripping, and I whined at the loss of contact. His teeth scraped against my throat as both of his hands came up to grope my breasts, making me gasp again as I clutched at his broad shoulders as he breathed against my skin, "I bet you taste like honey."

Whatever I was about to say was lost when he suddenly dropped with a splash to his knees. His strong hands grabbed my legs so that he could bury his face at the junction of my thighs, throwing them over his shoulders to give himself better access. With a startled shout I dug my fingers into his hair as his tongue unerringly found its target, lights spotting my vision at the abrupt pressure.

I swore in every language I have ever learned as he devoured me like a starving man tasting ambrosia, pulling at his hair as the sensation of his mouth assaulted me. The faint scrape of his teeth, the suction of his full lips, the rough velvet texture of his tongue, the moist heat of his breath... it was all too much. With a cry that echoed I crested, my body clenching and bucking even as he fought to hold my hips in place, moaning against my core as my completion flooded his mouth.

My trembling limbs clung to him as he pushed back to his feet, whimpering at the taste of myself on his mouth as he kissed me again in the dark steamy atmosphere of my bath.

"I want you," he breathed against my lips.

I looked up into the eyes that I had been lost to the moment I had seen them, "yes."

***

I carried her from the dark steamy bath back into her bedroom not giving a single shit about the water I dripped all over her floor. Laying her down on the opulent mattress, the morning light broke through her ceiling to floor windows and illuminated every inch of her as I took a moment to admire the view. She had the back of one of her delicate fingers caught between her sharp, even teeth as she looked up at me heatedly through half-lidded eyes, her silky dark hair splayed over the jewel-toned satin of her sheets. Her panting breaths caused the small handfuls of her breasts to rise and fall hypnotically, her dusky nipples aroused to stiff peaks as I took in the flush of her bronzed skin that _I_  had put there. All of it was bathed in the golden light of the dawn that enhanced everything about her.

As I watched her sensuous mouth released her digit and her teeth dug into her lower lip as she reached her arms up to me, "Please," she begged again, her normally sensual voice a breathy needing whine.

_Fuck_.

I crawled up her body, lifting one of her long smooth legs to accommodate myself as I settled onto the bed. Her hands immediately wound around my neck, pulling herself up to meet my mouth with her own as I took my hand and guided myself to her beckoning heat. She _whimpered_  against my mouth as I brushed my cock head against her sopping heat, throbbing in my own hand as I tried to control myself.

When I had barely breached her I had to stop, hissing at how fucking tight she was as she clenched around me, crying out breathlessly. It took everything I had not to lose it because I was not some sixteen-year-old about to get his rocks off for the first time damnit. This intensity was something new though, this desperate need to have this woman, and not something I had ever experienced before.

Even as I drew shuddering breaths to try and calm myself she shifted her hips. Fully impaling herself on my shaft in a movement that had me grabbing at her hips to hold her still as I cursed, I felt my cock spurt inside of her. It didn't stop her lips falling away from mine as her eyes rolled in her head and her back arching off the satin. The rapture on her face and the reaction of her flesh made me thrust into her on instinct, and instantly I knew that this one time was never going to be enough.

Her body twitching as she cried out, "Ah! Yes, _eispnēlas PLEASE!_ " was the most erotic thing I had ever seen, her words making my blood boil with desire.

"Fuck, baby, you're so _tight_."

I grunted as I moved in her, the walls of her snug little cunt clutching my cock as if it wanted to hold onto it as I bottomed out in her. I dropped onto my elbows, pulling at her flesh with my hands to hold her as close to me as possible, her arms coming around my shoulders again. I felt her nails dig into my back as her other hand dug into the short hair at the nape of my neck, crying out as she clung to me. Pressing open-mouthed kisses against her neck, I drove into her like a man possessed.

"Ah!" her sweet voice gasped in my ear, her soft lips brushing the fleshy shell sending jolts of sensation down my neck, "only you eispnēlas, it's only ever been you."

I froze and pulled my face from where it was buried at the junction of her neck and shoulder, meeting her dark eyes in wonder. She couldn't possibly mean...

The expression on her face spoke the truth of it.

"Ah, fuck, shit, god _damnit_." I humped into her like an animal as my orgasm crashed into me, the pig in me chanting ' **mine mine MINE** ' as I came inside her.

If the way her drenched cunny was clenching around me was any indicator, she wasn't complaining about my sudden rough treatment though. I held still for a moment as I shuddered over her, my breath hissing out of my teeth when I finally slipped my overly sensitive and still surprisingly swollen cock from her dripping heat. When I saw her beautiful pussy clench around nothing, the gleam of my cum deep inside her, my spent dick twitched with interest. Instead of acting on it, I dropped down beside her, turning so that I faced the morning light watching as the dawn brought out deep red tones in her hair. Her golden skin was sheened with sweat as she lay panting and unashamed on the expensive bedding, dark eyes watching my face.

I snaked an arm around her and pulled her away from the inevitable wet spot we had made. It was hard not to feel a touch of pleased possessiveness as her body was pliant in my arms, completely unresisting as I pulled her against me. It felt like the most natural thing in the world as she curled against my chest, her fine-boned hand resting on my heart as she rested her cheek on my shoulder.

"I... I don't understand how you're here," she admitted with a soft murmur after a few moments of blissful peace passed.

I snorted out a bit of a chuckle, "Well, I actually have a theory as to why that might be."


	8. Christianity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean explained his role in the apocalypse, and then fries some eggs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly this chapter is short and full of smut and fluff and cuteness, because I needed some, and so did the Pythia. 
> 
> 100% Dean's POV

"So you're telling me that _you_  ended up being one of the chosen vessels for that cursed Abrahamic cult's stupid apocalypse myth?! That all of that nonsense giving me those headaches a few years ago was _actually_  the end of the world, but that somehow you and your brother managed to stop it?"

I grinned at her, "That's right babe, you're looking at the man who saved the world."

I was stretched out on my side in her bed, the sumptuous satin sheets of hers feeling like total bliss against my skin, reminding me of those panties I had secretly loved wearing when I was a teenager. The sun was in my face, but I couldn't bring myself to care as I propped myself up on an elbow and watched her move.

God, what a sight.

She was still naked, silhouetted against the dawn sky and the uninhibited view of the valley below. Her hair brushed over the swell of her ass as she paced, her movements fluid even in her annoyance as she rested a hand on her hip, her other rubbing her forehead. Her skin was positively glowing in the morning light, and for the first time I truly understood why artists referred to the dawn as the 'golden hour'. Fuck me, I was the luckiest son of a bitch to ever walk gods green earth, and for the first time, I was actually grateful that I was Chuck's chosen.

Not that I would ever fucking tell that bastard that.

"Also, I shot Hitler," I added with a wink.

That stopped her and she looked at me with narrowed eyes and a sulk. I laughed, feeling almost deliriously happy at that moment at the sight of the stunning woman pulling that face at me. For once pieces of a puzzle I hadn't even known were missing were falling into place. My soul felt lighter than it had in ages.

"It's not funny," she groused as her feet carried her back to me.

She took my hand as I reached for her, climbing on the bed to straddle my lap like it was the most natural place in the world for her to be. Tucking my hands behind my head I looked up at the otherworldly thing pouting down at me and felt at peace at the sight.

"It's kinda funny," I smirked, "apparently Christianity threw a monkey wrench in your god's plan."

Her pout intensified and she threw in a bit of a glare, "You have _no_  idea how much I hate Christianity. Christians are terrible people."

"Can't argue with you there sweetheart, but not all of 'em are bad," Pulling a hand from behind my head I took the smooth sheet and rubbed it over the silken skin of her thigh, marveling at the difference in fine texture between her exquisite skin and the expensive fabric, "you should know my best friend is an Angel, as in a real one with fluffy wings and a halo and everything." I smirked up at her, "His name is Cas, I think you'll like him."

My grin widened as she exaggerated her sulk further while her dark eyes were glittering with mirth, but the look quickly melted into heat as I ground my renewed erection up into her. Her gaze was so hot I was surprised I wasn't melting under its intensity as she planted her hands on my stomach and rolled her hips into me in a way that should have been illegal as she bit her lip. I latched onto her sides with both hands just to steady myself as she continued to rock her hips into mine, taking control of the rhythm as I thrust back up against her. The expressions that flickered over her face were the hottest thing I had ever seen in my life as I brought this woman pleasure.

"You know... Christians burned my temple..." she panted as she moved against me, her cunt so wet I could hear it squelching, "persecuted me... throughout... throughout the centuries..."

"Uh huh," I panted in agreement, shifting so the next rock of our hips drove me up into her, making her gasp and throw her head back as I filled her with one thrust, "Christians do a lot of fucked up shit. Bible's a fucked up book."

"Oh! Mmm," she groaned as she adjusted to the feeling of me suddenly filling her sensitive flesh again, her eyes falling shut in bliss when I began to move, "Mmm hmm... but it, but it managed... oh! It... it..."

Words failed her as I felt her cum hard around me, her entire body shuddering with the sensation as she gave a little wordless cry as she crested unexpectedly. I grunted as she tightened like a vice, going still as she rode out her orgasm with a hiss as I tried to control my cock as it pulsed in her. Her hair tickled my skin as she continued to shudder over me, her body bowed over mine as she regained her breath, her hands resting on my chest. When she pushed her hair out of the way and looked up at me, her dark eyes were wet with emotion.

"It managed to give me back _you_."

My chest constricted again, and I pulled her face to mine, tasting that honeyed mouth of hers. Her gasp against my lips was the sweetest sound I had ever heard as I started moving again, keeping her mouth pressed to mine as I thrust up into her welcoming body, her pussy clenching each time as if it wanted to draw me in ever deeper. She was so perfect, _this_  was so perfect, I never wanted it to end.

Of course, with the way her body was responding to mine it came to an end sooner than I wanted it to.

Her voice cried out in abandon as she threw her head back exposing her slender throat to me, her hands buried in that dark mane of hair I wanted to bury my face in. The sensation of her body practically milking me made my breath escape me in a hiss as I felt myself pulsing deep inside her, the sensation of her hips grinding down into me as she rode out her bliss almost too much to bear. When she stilled and her eyes opened, the smile that she graced me with was as warm as the sun on my face.

"I guess Christianity isn't all bad then, huh?" I asked as I rubbed my hand over her thigh again, still buried in her, marveling at the silken texture of her skin, which I swore was the softest thing I had ever felt.

Her smile didn't fade, but her eyes narrowed as she gave me a look, "The jury is still out on that one."

I threw my head back and laughed.

I was making breakfast when Sam knocked on the door about an hour later, and I grinned when I answered it, earning a look from him.

"Really dude? After everything that happened yesterday you still managed _that?_ " He grumbled as he sat down at her breakfast counter and I put a plate of eggs and bacon down in front of him before he could pull out his laptop.

"Quit your bitchin' and eat your breakfast Sammy," I retorted with a grin, twirling the spatula over my fingers as I went to scoop another egg out of the frying pan, "and do you want coffee or juice?"

"Ooo, coffee if you have some made," came Pythia's voice as she emerged from the hall, fastening a long golden earring into her ear.

Gone was the ethereal goddess from the night before, and back in her place was the wealthy frigid aloof professional in designer power attire. It made me want to drop to my knees before her and beg for the honor of kissing those skyscraper heels she was wearing while addressing her as Madam. She looked so perfect as to be untouchable, her hair perfectly pulled back in a twist that I itched to mess up, skin glowing and flawless under her the tailored clothing and making my mouth water. Her dark features were enhanced by the smoky eye makeup she had applied, the gold earrings brushing the sides of her slender neck as she finished fixing her clothing. The smile she gave me and Sam, however, was anything but frigid. It was all sunshine and rainbows and everything good in the world as it warmed me to my toes. 

"Hmm," I affirmed, pouring the rich brown bean water into a mug as she sashayed over to me to plant a kiss on my cheek before grabbing a piece of toast, "I bet you use way too much sugar, don't 'cha?"

"Of course," she laughed like silver bells, totally carefree and full of the kind of affection I had always been missing in my life as she moved to sit next to Sam, "at least three spoonfuls of the stuff."

I didn't even need to ask her about the drop of cream I added to the drink I set down in front of her, somehow knowing that she would like it. She made a pleased sound as she took a sip, and the warmth of her smile made me feel like I was the king of the world when she beamed at me over her mug. When she set it down and pushed forward in her seat I didn't hesitate to close the gap and lay a kiss on her lips.

"You guys realize you met _yesterday_ , right?" Sam's disgusted voice broke the moment, and we both turned to look at his thoroughly bitched out face. I got the feeling she was mirroring my raised eyebrow if his eye-roll reaction was anything to go by as he threw his hands into the air, exclaiming, "There will be no living with you like this."


End file.
